CW:

  Talks about headmate abuse and trauma. Soul bites. Possessive lovers.

  It’s… about midday when they come and find me surrounded by the contents of the chest I always keep locked. Old journals, rare tomes, and… and the bag holding my Maktaba’s exploration crystals taking up a little corner by this room's fireplace.

  All really dangerous. But… also all wrapped up in preserving cloth. Most unopened for years and years now. The only books I’ve read through are my most recent journals and the catalog that lists all the stuff that should be here, alongside the books containing my records of the research with my fellow Maktaba bearers and Kque.

  “Okay, so this is my thought. Or our thoughts.” Ina starts after plopping down onto the floor across from me and the pile of dangerous treasures. “Or… Well actually more than that. We think we’ve started to figure out just the right song for this.”

  So soon? Was expecting them to need hours and hours of calm and careful study with me to even start once we got here but… I… I mean that makes sense. Their magic is about inspiration. More like little sparks that need the right impact of life to start burning.

  I swallow and nod. Try to hide my worry. “Okay.”

  They smile softly at me, reach out to take up a hand as Ina explains. “Our plan is to weave a… pretty big song. One to make sure we immediately fall into the shared Dream together. No detours or getting lost. But also to separate things. Create two warm pockets or bubbles inside. One for you, the other for your Maktaba. Then… let us go from there.”

  Wait… Segmented spaces for consciousness to remain apart? But that shouldn’t be possible. The Maktaba is woven directly into like… my mind and body and probably fucking soul.

  “You can do that?” I whisper, trying so hard to mush down the hope. “Like… Perfectly?”

  But they did just that when Ina needed to talk to the Zeridii. So... They want to give me a alteration of that song?

  “Yep!” They nod, so obviously mingled for the word as that excitement becomes this… infectious thing that bubbles off them like the nice smell of our lover’s cooking. “And it won’t even take much Amwella. Just… time to build up the right melody and stuff. Wrap you carefully into the right places and parts. But then we’ll have all night in our bubble to start figuring things out. Can take all the nights and days we want even!”

  “Okay.” I say again. Kinda uselessly fighting back from voicing the question that makes my everything go cold and still. Eventually just… ask as they wait really patiently for me to speak. “And what happens if… if this doesn’t work. And I um… it’s still there. Or inside me. Or… um… worse?”

  “Then the song will jerk us all awake.” They reply easily and with endless confidence that stills the bile and bubbling terror sitting in my stomach. “We’re actually wanting to talk to you about what we can add in to help you if that happens. The little tricks you’ve learned over the years. Things… we think might help us help you here in the Waking World regardless?”

  Can they numb these Glyphs etched across me? Or… maybe smother the Maktaba to stay asleep when they are bumped? Sever the connections? Just a little magic to help me focus on… well, me. Because that would give me the ability to… to…

  I have to look away, but I can’t. Their sparkling violet eyes hold me frozen.

  Stop feeling like I’m always tied up in barbed ropes. Can’t like… fully do anything ever because even gently brushing one can ruin anything I was doing or thinking or feeling.

  “That… Yeah.” I whisper. “I think I’d really like you both to try and do that.”

  They give my hand a little squeeze, “So, tell us how we can help you.”

  I open my mouth to start explaining but… don’t know where to even begin. Look down at the mess between us. Considering… which to offer her?

  The inlays and order of the etchings we’ve discovered and charted out? But… they’re all different. And mine is the least understood. The most unknown because we can’t even communicate with it without risking me getting hurt.

  Or…

  My personal journals from these past months Kque’s nudged me into keeping while trying to help me manage things. Bullied and pestered into recording each episode ever since I asked for her help in Deledita, however small, as best I can. When it happened, what caused it, and… and how I felt. Most importantly how I pulled myself out of the mess.

  Not sure which is the most important, or helpful, as I let go of my lovers’ hand and gather up the stack. Offer them the small pile containing both. “I think these are the best places to start.”

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  They nod, taking the books and holding them close. And… I’m reminded how much Ina enjoyed translating that journal with me as a little smirk touches their lips. Thinking that… That maybe I can even enjoy explaining at least some of the things in those books if it’s with them. Especially in this warm house that’ll soon be filled up totally with the smells of warm meals cooked by our lovers.

  ** ** **

  It’s not until partway into the research tomes and fully through the journals they start asking me questions. The day has drifted by really slowly but… not in a bad way. Just lazily.

  “Has this Maktaba ever shared memories with you?” Aceso murmurs softly, glancing up to meet my eyes. “Not… not the crushing infliction you talk about here. But anything else?”

  I pause, think back and… shake my head. “Like… Not really. Not that I can remember. Unless you count the nudges it used to keep me um… obedient. Back before we left with Kque.”

  “Okay.” She nods, looking back down and turning the page. So very obviously asking that from the middle of a conversation with Ina.

  Want to like… press them to share but worry I’ll just slow them down. Talking at the speeds of thoughts must make their talks and inspirations happen really fast. Let them flip through lots of ideas and…

  “Thank you.” Ina’s glanced back up to offer with a smile. “And um… Sorry. She was a little curt there. Just was lost in a thought path and didn’t wanna lose it."

  “No no I get it.” I reply quickly. “Honestly the like… focus on just the facts and stuff is kinda helpful here?”

  “I think I can get that.” She nods, placing a little scrap of paper to mark their spot before closing the book. Pointedly placing all their attention on me. “But can you explain it anyway? So we understand?”

  I blink. A little surprised this questions seems so important to her.

  “Sure. Just um… So emotions are weird for me. And sometimes I need others to help me understand either what I should feel about something. Not because I can’t, but since I was taught to not express them. Hurt when I did. Which wasn’t healthy, of course. But it helped me work through lots of scary projects. Which this is. And you asking questions in the same way you might ask how our food rations are doing tricks my head into treating it that way too. Which… I prefer to the alternative.”

  Ina almost looks away but, instead sighs and sets that book fully aside. Moves to sit right beside me. Leans against the couch behind. “Yeah. Fuck. You’re absolutely right and I hate how familiar that sounds.”

  “It fucking sucks. Makes me feel so... fake. ” I grumble, settling back to join her. “Because, like… I can feel myself always ready to fall apart. Like I did when we were leaving the Academy. But I need to hold myself together. To get shit done. To feel normal. Which sucks too but…”

  As I trail off, Aceso nods and whispers. “But less than letting the things that were done to us make us feel like… like we’re somehow ruining the little happiness we’ve found.”

  “Exactly. Which is stupid. Because like… They love us. A lot. Want to help.”

  She smiles, “But we were taught that others didn’t want to help. And are still learning to believe elsewise. Specifically... That the pain we feel matters.”

  That… hurts to hear. A lot. So much that I feel moisture bubbling in my eyes.

  “Almost wish it didn’t.” I whisper, letting myself fall over to lean into their shoulder. “Is… part of the reason I didn’t like talking about it before you joined our family. Thought if I pretended I was okay that… that I could make it true. Be like everyone else. Normal and not… not so broken inside.”

  “It almost works. Wrapping ourselves up like that.” Aceso echoes the next thought before I can muster the words to speak it. “Ignoring the scars, letting them fester. But… the source of pain is still there. Your abuser. Like a broken blade weighing heavy over your neck.”

  “Can’t move it. Can’t change it.” I shrug into the melody of those words, and the feeling of the cold iron behind it.

  “Probably not alone… no.” Aceso hums, adjusting to wrap an arm around me. “But you’re not alone. Never again.”

  While the other… the other moves up to… to…

  Touch my scalp. Gently hover just at the edge to a Glyph.

  And a wordless question titters through the song they’re weaving. A request of trust bubbling with inspiration. The World Song suddenly wribbling around us and swirling so happily at my lover's attentions.

  Without thinking I reach up and shove their hand onto a Glyph.

  The sudden willful intrusion sparks such an angry hissing collapsing angry thing to descend from the shadows of my mind to crush and break and hurt and ruin and–

  Is stopped. Suddenly and deftly and almost perfectly.

  Twist eyes up to see Aceso and Ina grinning through a pained wince.

  Bloody hands or spirit or focus or… or something, hold the wretched thing inside my mind from biting at me while physical hand gently holds my head close.

  “MINE.” Aceso and Ina’s grip on that strike aimed for me snarls.

  Not… I mean it is possessive. But nothing like the House of Scara Noc was. This is the growl of a lover warning something scary or dangerous that if it wants to hurt me, it’ll have to deal with them too.

  And… and like only when threatened by the heiress with Spirit Hooks, I feel my Maktaba flinch. Jerk back. Filled with…

  Fear.

  Then it's gone. Returned to annoyed slumber.

  The tears do pour out then, at… being able to feel a lover touch part of my scars without it ruining everything. But… also how even with their song magic this wasn’t a perfect thing.

  “It hurt you?” I whisper. Unable to move.

  Locked in place by the gentle and warm hand that still rests carefully atop my head. Fail to fight back the shiver that rolls through me and covers my entire upper body in brumbles at this casual but possessive protective touch.

  “Only a little scratch.” They hum together. “But she knows the song of our soul now. Will remember us.”

  She? How… My Maktaba is a girl? Or… just seems like one to them? How much did they see?

  “I… Is that a good thing?” I whisper.

  They think about that for a few moments, then slowly pull their hand from my head. Voice still thrumming with Amwella that moves to happily mend the soul wounds on them. “It’s important. She needs to understand that you are not alone.”

  Them speaking that… that again sends a shiver down my spine. Makes me feel like something inside cracks a little. Lean harder into them while hiding my face.

  “The song’s not perfect though.” Ina sighs, wrapping arms about me while slumping back a little. “Need to… tune it. I think. Can’t let Kque give you the biggest hug of your life just yet. But we should be able to before we even try to dream together.”

  Do come apart a little at that. Have myself a little ugly cry into their side.

  Yet. She…

  They can do this. Their songs let them interact with the Maktaba.

  Protected me.

  Will keep protecting me.

  Help me get hugs and more from my lovers without worry of pain and worse.

  ALSO ALSO if your enjoying our series please make sure to give it a rating of star-things and MEBE even a kind review!

  AND to join in the discussion of silly SST and LoTDD things visit our !

  ALSO My other work, is uploaded RIGHT NOW!

  Also also! We just did right up a new lil story about a living weapon and her Witch!

  Clickie the pretty picture below to go read it!!!